Enchant
by TolkienGirl
Summary: 31 sentences about Emma Swan, in honor of her 31st birthday. Canon, with hints of Captain Swan, of course! Mild language.


**A/N:** **I love the simplicity and impact of sentence-fics, so here are 31 of them in honor of Emma Swan's 31st birthday (October 22nd). All beginning with E!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words.**

**Exit**

The highway hum is loud enough to drown out many sounds, but not the lonely wails of a child who cries without knowing why.

**Effulgent**

Later, much later, she wonders if it was the golden hair that drew them in—families who wanted the perfect child, and didn't want her when they found out she wasn't.

**Explain**

She goes through as many _maybes_ as foster homes, as many reasons as she can think of why two people could have left a child on the side the road, but none of them ever add up to _because they loved you._

**Enough**

When all is said in done, she supposes that Neal probably did _love_ her—in his own way, the way of loving that leaves (_it's not enough for her_).

**Errant**

She hates them with the cool sort of professionalism that comes from fighting the same ugliness, over and over again—cheating husbands, sly tricksters, embezzlers, slowly chipping away at her faith in humanity.

**Extinguish**

Funny, how blowing out a candle on a solitary cupcake ignited a spark of hope that said, _"I'm your son."_

**Elite**

Surely, Henry's mother isn't the witch he says—but the contempt in her eyes is all too familiar, and something in Emma's stomach turns.

**Elected**

Becoming the Sheriff seems like the first real step to permanence, and the fact that Regina fights it harder than ever only convinces her further that staying is the only option.

**Effective**

Mary Margaret has a way of _looking_ that makes Emma feel guilty, and then annoyed—after all, isn't that look the sole right and privilege of moms?

**Elusive**

She trusts Mr. Gold less than she trusts Regina, even though it's his very unpredictability that makes him so invaluable.

**Esoteric**

She can't explain this town, or anyone in it—only that they seem to share knowledge without knowing.

**Elucidation**

Fairytales are just that until her son is dying—and then she really _does_ care about the happy endings—

**Epic**

She fights dragons and wraiths and ogres now, but the most terrifying thing about all of it is how damn _alive_ she feels when she does it.

**Entice**

"I was hoping it'd be you," the pirate purrs, and she rolls her eyes to distract him from the fact that she's blushing.

**Evade**

Cora's hand pierces her chest, and she's certain that it's over—barely has time to hear Mary Margaret's scream—and then it _is_ over, but not at all in the way anyone of them expected.

**Escape**

He nearly outruns her, and she almost wishes he had—she didn't really want to find Neal (_and not like_ _this_).

**Emotion**

It's not about her feelings, this distrust of Tamara—she can tell when someone is lying, even if nobody still believes her (_and Neal never did_).

**Eclipse**

Regret, frustration, fear, uncertainty, grief—all are surpassed by urgency, by urgency: _Find Henry._

**Exhaustion**

The air in Neverland is heavy like a secret, dragging at her heels, and she hates it.

**Epitome**

It was just a joke, until it wasn't—until their lips met and she found that his hunger and passion and yearning were only matched by hers (_but it's still a one-time thing_).

**Eternal**

To sail three hundred years on a broken heart is a testament to love indeed, and if she's being truthful, sometimes it frightens her, being loved by someone like that.

**Evaluate**

She doesn't have time for this, but if she lets herself, she thinks of Neal in the past and Hook…she doesn't know, yet, what she thinks of Hook.

**End**

The price of defeating Pan is something none of them can bear, and the fact that she won't remember any of it is worst of all.

**Emblems**

She keeps the necklace and the shoelace and the red leather jacket, not because she remembers them (they have no meaning in this perfect, quiet life) but because she _doesn't._

**Engagement**

The diamond on the plate looks cold and hard, surrounded by the curl of chocolate, but Walsh's eyes are _so very sincere…_and for a moment she had almost let herself believe.

**Envelop**

The memories hit her hard, a blow to the stomach, and she reels under the very force of the truth.

**Elevate**

Magic _is_ felt, rather than thought—it's a tingling in her veins, a hum in her fingertips, a flare of danger and fire and fierce love in her heart.

**Elegance**

She can't believe that she said "Princess Leia," like the idiot she is, but as they dance his eyes are so _awestruck _when he looks at her that she pretends it's just a fantasy, falling in love with…Prince Charles.

**Epitaph**

"Beloved Son" is what Neal's gravestone reads, and try as she might, she can't think of what else she would put there (_what they had was never quite enough for words_).

**Embrace**

His arms are there to hold her if she ever wants them—she isn't sure quite what she wants, but she doesn't think of him as just a pirate anymore, somehow.

**Evolution**

Her family is all around her now, so much so that she doesn't know what to do with them half the time…but she's certain, too, that she wouldn't know at all what to do without them.


End file.
